


You're far away tonight

by samanthajane



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthajane/pseuds/samanthajane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed calls Harry when he's drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're far away tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda short but it was late and I was bored.

Harry presses his forehead against the glass of the window, sitting crossed legged on the floor. The city, he thinks Toronto – yeah, he’s pretty sure they’re in Toronto – laid out before him, or underneath, dark shadows and flashing lights coinciding. He can’t hear the noise it’s all making, but he can see it, and he’s absently thinking he doesn’t want to leave. But they are, tomorrow. Onto another city. But he’s laughing, anyway, for a whole other manner of reasons.  

“How much’ve you had?” he murmurs into his phone, smirking, lips nearly touching the window.

“Only like – some, maybe like, I dunno. There was tequila. There isn’t any now.”

Ed’s voice is muffled by the sounds of the party around him, he’s basically yelling, but his voice is still soft. Harry chuckles. He's wondering what Ed's wearing, if his hair's all fluffy because he won't have put gel in again after his gig, if he's shaved, if he's curling his hands around everyone's wrists and waists and giggling into their necks like he does with Harry. It's silly, really, it makes no difference when Harry's not there. But he thinks about it anyway.

“I hope someone licked the salt off of you." he says lightly. "Gotta do it properly.”

Ed’s laughing. Loud, cackling even. Harry’s not entirely sure it’s at what he said, maybe someone he’s with instead. Someone in the same country.

“I only like that when it’s you.” Ed slurs. It’s almost like when they’re together, when he slurs right into Harry’s ear, lips brushing the shell and a hand wound around his waist. Almost.

“Liar.” Harry mutters, smiling.

“S’best with you.” Ed says, quieter now. “Most things are.”

Harry shakes his head.

“You are so smashed.”

“You’re so hot.”

“Not charming in the slightest.” He grins, his forehead’s damp with how cold the glass is. Ed chuckles in his ear and his smile widens. “You can’t even tell me how much you’ve had to drink. All comments are considered nonsense after that point.”

“F’you were here I’d bring a bottle of tequila to my hotel room, put the salt on your neck, stomach too maybe, and the lime in your mouth.” Ed mumbles absently, like he’s telling Harry the weather.

Harry can’t really remember what it was like before Ed talked to him like this, so open and unabashed. He remembers they used to be more subtle, shy and passing it off as friendly flirting. A few too many shots at the Olympics closing ceremony and they couldn’t pretend it wasn’t anything anymore. The morning after, when they woke up, Harry realised he didn’t really want to pretend anyway.

“What about the shot?” he asks, grinning though he’s not sure why.

“You can feed me it. Um. Drink me it. What’s the verb for that?”

“Dunno.” Harry shrugs, laughing. “Maybe we’d just forget the alcohol and fuck instead?”

“Maybe.” Ed says sadly, _sadly_. Like it’s a tragedy that they’re not fucking right now. Maybe it is.

He can hear people in the background yelling Ed’s name. Ed either doesn’t or doesn’t care. He just sighs, then laughs, then sighs again. He mumbles something about lips and sunshine.

“There are people probably way cooler than me calling for you.” Harry reminds him.

Ed’s ignoring him, singing “ _Ain’t no sunshiiiine when he’s gone_ ” down the phone and laughing. Harry wants to hit him.

“I hope you know how much I’m going to take the piss out of you for this tomorrow.”

“Maybe y’could get on a plane and come here and you can take the piss out of me all you like.” Ed grumbles.

Harry laughs. It’s been a while this time, they can’t seem to get any crossovers. Sometimes Harry thinks Ed might forget about him, if they’re too busy for too long, and then he gets calls at 3am like this.

“Hm. Can’t. Got a show.”

Ed huffs a laugh back. “You’re an evil little chicken.”

“Why chicken?”

“Dunno.” Ed mutters, clearing his throat. It sounds like he might be outside now. He’s quiet for a minute or so, Harry’s hoping he hasn’t passed out on a pavement somewhere. Then he hears him laughing. “Feel a bit like the donkey in Shrek that’s with the dragon.”

“I have no idea what the hell that means.” Harry says flatly, he’s smiling though.

“Course you don’t, you’re the dragon.” Ed says, laughing. "Such a pretty, pretty dragon."

Harry has to laugh. This isn’t even the tequila, this is just Ed. 

“I thought I was a chicken?”

“Those donkey-dragon babies were weird.” Ed continues. “And I just don’t get how they could even be conceived.”

“Ed,” Harry says through a giggle, “you think about the most ridiculous things.”

“True. I do think about you a lot.”

He rolls his eyes.  He can’t help but think about when they’re lying in bed, or on the sofa, and Ed will tease him like that, but kissing him along the way. _Your face is stupid_ – kiss – _stop laughing at me, idiot_ – kiss – _you’re digging your big annoying knees into me_ – kiss kiss kiss. Harry doesn’t know why he thinks about that stuff the most. It should really be the sex beforehand he dwells on, or something.

He presses his head harder against the window.

“Are you gonna go back to your party?” He looks out at one of the streets he can see, brightened by the lamps. Ed was in Toronto about a month before. He said to Harry once, they’re always missing each other in more ways than one. Harry said that was true, but really fucking cheesy.

“Probably. Where’re you going?”

“Bed, probably.”

“M'jealous.”

“Of me?”

Ed’s quiet for a few moments. Harry thinks he’s forgotten what they were saying. “Of your duvet.”

“Have a nice night, Ed.” Harry says lowly, not able to keep himself from smiling. He has no idea why they do this, realistically speaking it’s a recipe for disaster. But. It’s Ed.

Ed hums, a little laugh escaping him. “Your voice is like gooey dark chocolate.”

“That’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ed giggles, all breathy that it makes Harry shiver. “Night, gooey.”

~

_Messages: Ed_

_I need to stop thinking bout you wehen I’m slepping_

_nottt sleepng but like in bef_

_bed_

_you r face smells nice_

_like your skin_

_idungo_

~

**HAHAHAHAHAHA. Morning!**

_I hate myself_

_~_


End file.
